“I know it was an accident,” said Ed. “So why don’t we just say the truth? Tell the police exactly what happened? I don’t get it. You don’t even like her.”

“That’s not relevant,” said Madeline.

“It was Renata who started it,” said Ed. “And then everyone else jumped on board. ‘I didn’t see. I didn’t see.’ We didn’t even know if the man was dead or alive and we were already planning the cover-up! I mean, Jesus, does Renata even know Bonnie?”

Madeline thought she understood why Renata ha’d said what she’d said. It was because Perry had cheated on Celeste, like Geoff cheated on Renata. Madeline had seen the expression on Renata’s face when Perry said, “It didn’t mean anything.” At that moment Renata had wanted to shove Perry off the balcony herself. Bonnie just got there first.

If Renata hadn’t said, “I didn’t see him fall,” then perhaps Madeline’s mind wouldn’t have moved fast enough to even consider the consequences for Bonnie, but as soon as Renata said what she did, Madeline had thought of Bonnie’s daughter. That fluttery thing Skye did with her eyelashes, the way she always hid behind her mother’s skirt. If ever there was a child who needed her mother, it was Skye.

And maybe it was more than that.

Maybe it was actually an unspoken instant agreement between the four women on the balcony: No woman should pay for the accidental death of that particular man. Maybe it was an involuntary, atavistic response to thousands of years of violence against women. Maybe it was for every rape, every brutal backhanded slap, every other Perry that had come before this one.

“Bonnie has a little girl,” said Madeline.

“Perry had two little boys—so what?” said Ed. He looked off to a space above Madeline’s bed. His face was haggard in the harsh single light. She could see the old man he’d one day be. “I just don’t know if I can live with this, Madeline.”

He was the first one to get to Perry. He was the one who saw the broken, twisted body of a man who had just moments before been talking and laughing with him about golf handicaps. It was too much to ask of him. She knew this.

“Perry was not a good person,” said Madeline. “He’s the one who did those things to Jane. Did you get that? He’s Ziggy’s father.”

“That’s not relevant,” said Ed.

“It’s up to you,” said Madeline. Ed was right. Of course he was right, he was always right, but sometimes doing the wrong thing was also right.

“Do you think she meant to kill him?” she asked.

“I don’t,” said Ed. “But so what? I’m not judge and jury. It’s not my job to—”

“Do you think she’ll do it again? Do you think she’s a danger to society?”

“No, but again, so what?” He gave her a look of genuine anguish. “I just don’t think I can knowingly lie in a police investigation.”

“Haven’t you already?” She knew he’d spoken to the police briefly last night before he came to the hospital, as she’d been taken off in one of the three ambulances that had pulled up in the kiss-and-drop zone out in front of the school.

“Not officially,” said Ed. “Some officer wrote down a few notes and I said . . . God, I don’t really know what I said, I was drunk. I didn’t mention Bonnie, I know that, but at one o’clock this afternoon I’ve agreed to go down to the police station and give an official witness statement. They’ll tape it, Madeline. They’ll have two officers sitting in a room, looking at me while I knowingly lie. I’ll have to sign an affidavit. That makes me an accessory—”

“Hey there.” It was Nathan, charging into the room holding a big bunch of flowers and smiling a big wide celebrity smile, as if he were a motivational speaker walking onto a stage.

Ed jumped. “Jesus Christ, Nathan, you scared the life out of me.”

“Sorry, mate,” said Nathan. “How are you, Maddie?”

“I’m fine,” said Madeline. There was something unsettling about having your husband and your ex-husband standing next to each other, looking down at you while you lay in bed. It was weird. She wished they would both leave.

“There you go! Poor girl!” Nathan dumped the flowers on her lap. “I hear you’re going to be on crutches for quite a while.”

“Yes, well—”

“Abigail has already said she’s moving back home to help you.”

“Oh,” said Madeline. “Oh.” She fingered the pink petals of the flowers. “Well, I’ll talk to her about it. I’ll be perfectly fine. She doesn’t need to look after me.”

“No, but I think she wants to move back home,” said Nathan. “She’s looking for an excuse.”

Madeline and Ed looked at each other. Ed shrugged.

“I always thought the novelty would wear off,” said Nathan. “She missed her mum. We’re not her real life.”

“Right.”

“So. I should get going,” said Ed.

“Could you stay for a moment, mate?” said Nathan. The big positive-thinking smile had gone, and now he looked like the man in the wrong at a car accident. “I wouldn’t mind talking to the two of you for a bit—about, um, about what happened last night.”

Ed grimaced, but he pulled over a nearby chair and placed it next to his, gesturing for Nathan to sit.